


The world ain't ending, but it might as well be

by PrettyCalypso



Series: Ain't nobody (loves me better) [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Sexual Content, tags might be added, this is a sequel not a stand-alone story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyCalypso/pseuds/PrettyCalypso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after "Captured Effortlessly".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Take me in your arms, ring the alarm

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part of "Ain't nobody (loves me better)" and the sequel of "Captured Effortlessly".  
> Nothing is canon-compliant anymore.
> 
> In the first part we had Ian and Mickey's POV, in this one I added Mandy's POV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years after the end of "Captured Effortlessly".
> 
> Mandy is happy.

 

 

The glacial gray house, the smell of cheap beers and cold tobacco, Terry's face, coming closer, people screaming, and blood, and fear...

 

Mandy woke up suddenly, sweating and short of breath. She took the time to register her surroundings. The quiet and warm bedroom, the faint sound of traffic coming from outside, and the rising sun creeping through the window. She could breath again. She hadn't had this nightmare in years, hadn't thought about what happened that night in a very long time, but it still felt like yesterday. She took a moment to think about what her life had became in these past ten years. She had made a few bad decisions, as a true fucked up Milkovich, but then she had made one good choice, follow by another one, and another one, and by a great choice, and finally by the best decision of her life. And now, everything was okay. Everything was even more than okay.

She grabbed her phone on the night table. She still had half an hour before her alarm rang, but she decided to get up now anyway. She slowly left her bed, trying not to wake up the man still sleeping in it. Her husband. It had been three years, but she still had trouble believing it sometimes. She smiled at the sight of his peaceful face and grabbed a light sweater on the chair next to the dresser. She carefully made her way out of the room, and decided to take a peek in the two other bedrooms of the apartment before heading to the bathroom. The first bedroom, the one on the left, had pink and purple walls, a small bed, a small desk, a small closet, and a messy floor full of toys. The little girl occupying it was sleeping in a complicated entanglement of sheets. The second bedroom, the one on the right, was more of a nursery, even though it would be time soon enough to replace the crib by a real bed, this little boy was growing up too fast. Mandy left her kids at their childish dreams for a little while longer and got ready in the bathroom. Her hair had been back to its natural light brown color for five years now, and she had it cut to her shoulders the previous month. She liked this new 'mom' haircut, and the 'mom' clothes she was wearing now. It was respectable, and perfect for her job as a secretary in a high school. Some people said that those 9 to 5 jobs are alienating, but Mandy liked it. She had a steady salary allowing her to put food the table every single day and pay her rent every month without worry. She had a good schedule allowing her to spend time with her family. She had somewhere to be every day and a home to come back to with delight every night. She was useful, and needed, and most of all, she was loved. Loved by her colleagues, loved by the students, loved by her friends, loved by her husband, and loved by her children. Life was good.

Mandy went into the kitchen. She fumbled for a little while in the cupboards before putting a bowl in the table with a spoon next to it, a pack of colorful cereal, and milk, as well as a glass of orange juice. She then got the coffee brewing in the pot. Last, she prepared the baby bottle. And just when she had finished her daily ritual, she heard her baby boy waking up. He wasn't crying yet, but she could hear him fumbling threw the door, and talking to his stuffed animals – as much as a 2-year-old can talk. Before Mandy went to take care of her son, she entered her daughter's bedroom and slowly, delicately, woke her up. The little girl whined and complained, but finally smiled, and Mandy smiled back.

“Okay sweetie. Take your time. Your breakfast is ready.”

The girl yawned and slowly started to stand up. It was Mandy's clue to go take care of her other child.

 

An hour later, the little family was up and ready to go. Jeremy left with Emma, taking her to her school before going to work. Mandy took Ethan and dropped him at the day care before going to work herself. Even there, the routine was pretty well organized. But Mandy didn't mind. Really, if everything she liked the routine now.

After her second coffee of the day – this one shared with her colleagues – Mandy remembered the date. She took her phone out and wrote a quick text:

 

[Mandy 10.01am] _Emma's birthday is in a month. She wants you there. Don't forget._

 

She was about to put her phone away, ready to go back to her desk, laughing at the librarian's last joke, when it biped in her hand.

 

[Mickey 10.08am] _Of course I didn't fucking forget Mands. We'll be there._

 

Mandy smiled. She saw her brother regularly, and her children's birthdays, as well as Christmas and Thanksgiving, were annual dates. She knew he couldn't forget, but still, she wanted to be sure. And she couldn't wait to have her entire family – or at least the one she actually cared about – back together once again.

 

******

 

Emma wanted to go to the Park. Again. She has a thing for the horses, and the ducks, the animals in general, and the pseudo nature. Mandy didn't really understand it, she was more of a city girl herself, but if it made her daughter happy... Ethan was quite excited too. His sister had definitely a big influence on him. Because Jeremy had a pile of papers to grade, Mandy went to Central Park alone with her two kids. They ran around, chased each other. Ethan threw rocks at the ducks – unfortunately he still had Milkovich blood in his veins, and it sometimes came back at the surface. Emma wandered in the grass, telling stories to herself – this kid had so much imagination. And Mandy sat on a bench, reading her book of the moment. She never liked to read in high school and before, but since she had met Jeremy, books had became her new hobby. It wasn't like some people said, escaping your life for another world or something, it was more like filling her head with words, and words, and words, trying to keep all the terrible images away.

 

She was starting a new chapter, keeping an eye on her children to make sure they weren't drowning or being kidnapped, when she saw... She turned her head violently. She thought she had seen... She shook her head. No. She was most certainly wrong. It couldn't be... She sighed and came back to her story. Ethan came running to her. He was apparently bored. Mandy put her book away and lifted her son onto her laps.

“You okay there?”

“I'm hungry.”

“You want ice cream?”

The little boy's eyes lit up.

“Ice cream!” he repeated with as much joy as a 2-year-old can contain.

Mandy smiled. She gathered her stuff, holding Ethan in her arms, spotting Emma from the distance. She waved at her and the little family walked to the first ice cream truck they found. Emma picked strawberry and vanilla, and Ethan caramel. Mandy didn't take one, she knew she would have to finish her son's frozen dessert – if he didn't drop it first.

 

******

 

In the week following the afternoon at Central Park, Mandy caught sight of this shadow, this silhouette, a few more times. She always shook it away though. It couldn't be... Really it couldn't. Her mind was just playing with her.

But then, on an early Sunday morning, when her family was packed in front of a stupid kid cartoon on TV, someone came knocking at their door. Mandy lazily stood up to go open their apartment door. She was only in her pajamas but she didn't really care, people – especially back in Chicago – had seen her in less than that. She put her hand on the door knob and suddenly she was hesitating. She had a bad feeling about this. But she also knew that, somehow, it couldn't be as bad as in her worst nightmares. So she took a deep breath... and she opened the door.

 

He was standing there, right in front of her, straight in his uniform, his hands behind his back, in the perfect military position. He was smiling, this big goofy happy smile of his. Mandy couldn't help but smile back, slightly shaking her head.

“Ian fucking Gallagher.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mandy's husband is called Jeremy and her kids Emma and Ethan. It might be fucked up. Or just one of my very elaborate “Easter Eggs”. You decide.


	2. Can't wait another mile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mandy catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't wait to post this new chapter.
> 
> Also, I like to make you suffer. ;)

 

Ian Gallagher had spent the last nine and a half years of his life convincing himself he would never see Mandy and Mickey Milkovich ever again. They were his childhood best friend and his childhood love. Most adults never see or hear about their childhood relationships for the rest of their life and are perfectly fine with it. Ian made other friends, had other boyfriends, everything was more or less good in his life – and maybe it was accentuated on the 'less part' but, you know, he is a Gallagher, they are supposed to be fucked up.

 

Ian was in New York for a few days, visiting his old roommate from back at the Academy. To be honest, when he had first met James, he had had a little crush on him, but he had understood pretty quickly that the guy was straight as an arrow. And now, Ian was spending time with him, and his wife and kids, in their not-so-big apartment in the City. The redhead had nothing against kids, on the contrary, he usually liked them, except when they were 4 months old and spent half of their time screaming. So he went out, ran a lot, or just enjoyed the life in the Big Apple. And during one of his afternoons in Central Park, he saw her. At first he thought he was imagining it, but then he looked more closely and it was really her. Mandy had changed as much as a person can change in ten years. She looked happy. Ian had stayed away, he didn't want to disrupt her life, and beside he wasn't sure he was ready for it. But a few days later, he saw her again. What are the chances for that to happen twice in a city with a population as big as New York? So Ian had decided to discreetly follow her – as creepy as that sounded – to know a little more about her life. Mandy and her family lived in more or less the same circle than James and his family, their kids even went to the same school. Soon enough, Ian had found out where Mandy lived, and one day he decided to just go for it.

 

******

 

Mandy had put on a lot of effort to forget her life in the Southside, to put every crap and bad memories behind her. But now, this ghost from her past was standing right in front of her. She was happy to see Ian, he used to be her best friend, and she had loved him, but she also wanted to close the door to his face and never hear about him ever again. He reminded her too much of Chicago, and the old fucked up Mandy Milkovich she wasn't anymore. But his smile was contagious. So Mandy opened the door more broadly, and the last thing she knew Ian was hugging her so tight, lifting her from the ground.

“Mandy! I'm so happy to see you!”

“I'm happy to see you too. Just... put me down now.”

Ian obeyed when Jeremy and the kids decided to joined them in the entrance. Mandy introduced her husband and children with a smile to her childhood best friend. Both men shook hands, and Ian made faces at the kids. Once all of that was done, Jeremy took the children to their bath so Mandy would have some time alone to catch up with Ian. They both sat in the kitchen and opened cans of soda.

“So...” Ian started when the awkward silence began to settle. “Kids huh?”

Mandy nodded.

“Yeah... 8 and 2 years old. They're a handful, but I love them.”

Ian smiled.

“That's good. I'm happy for you Mands.”

She winced at the surname. The only person calling her this way nowadays was Mickey. One more reminder that Ian was definitely a person from her past – not that her brother belonged to her past, but it was still hard sometimes to watch him without remembering.

“And you?” she asked to put her thoughts into other things. “Got any kids?”

Ian shook his head, huffing a laugh.

“Nope. No kids, no perfect husband – he gestured toward the bathroom where they could hear Jeremy laugh with Emma and Ethan – no perfect family.”

“My life isn't _perfect_...”

“Oh come on Mands, compared to where and how we grew up, this is paradise!”

“Yeah well...”

No need reminding her that.

“By the way” Ian added “I don't mean to be intrusive but... Emma...”

Mandy smiled. She knew where her ex-best friend was coming at. It was hard to believe that her daughter was Jeremy's child as she was obviously metis and Mandy's husband was as pale as her.

“She isn't like Liam, if it's what you're asking...”

Ian laughed.

“Jeremy isn't actually her father.”

The redhead looked at her like he wanted to go further on that road. So Mandy cut it short. She didn't feel like talking about that now.

“He's not in the picture anymore. As long as everybody is concerned, Emma is Jeremy's daughter.”

Ian nodded.

 

******

 

Ian wanted to ask her. He really wanted to, but he didn't know how to bring the subject on the table without it looking suspicious. He drank slowly a few more sips of his soda can – god, he wished it was beer! – and finally went for it.

“So... do you still have contact with anybody?”

Shit, that was bad. Mandy looked at him, blatantly oblivious to where he was going with that.

“Anybody?”

“I mean anybody from back in Chicago...”

Mandy froze and dropped her gaze on the table.

“No.” she simply answered, but Ian felt she wanted to say more.

“Not even your brothers?” he insisted.

Mandy raised her eyes back to him, and cracked a smile.

“I'm still in contact with Mickey, if that what you're trying to ask.”

Ian tried to find a good come back that would still give him the information he wanted, but Mandy was already smacking it on the back of the head.

“What was that for?”

“Not telling me you were screwing my brother you shithead!”

“How do you...”

“Mickey and I had time to talk in ten years!”

“So he's still around?”

“Yeah.”

“He lives in New York too?”

Mandy's face went awfully serious all of the sudden.

“Ian... I don't think that's... You shouldn't...”

No. She couldn't do that. He wanted to see Mickey. Fuck the past nine and a half years, he needed to see Mickey.

“Mandy please. I just... I just want to talk to him.”

“I don't know Ian...”

“I won't do anything to hurt him. I promise.”

Mandy seemed to think it over, so Ian gave her his best puppy eyes. Sure it didn't work as well as it used too when they were kids but...

“Shit.” Mandy let out before standing up and walking toward the living room.

She came back with a small piece of paper in her hand. She hesitated for some more time before finally handing it to Ian.

“If he asked, you didn't get that from me.”

Ian nodded while taking the paper.

“He moved to Albany a few years ago. But...”

_But?_

“He's not living alone Ian.” Mandy finally let out.

 

******

 

Mandy had tried her very best to convince Ian that it wasn't a good idea for him to go see Mickey, but the redhead couldn't care less. It didn't matter if Mickey was married to some handsome man Ian could never compete with, he just wanted to see him one more time, to have, at least, a proper goodbye, a real closure.

 

The house was a classic East-coast house, not very different from their houses in Chicago. Except that the paint seemed new, the windows were all in perfect shape, and the grass was green. A blond boy, who looked about 10 years old, was playing in front of the house with Teenage Mutant Turtles toys. Ian walked toward him.

“Hi kid.”

The boy looked up to him with a small smile.

“Hi.”

“Do you know if Mickey Milkovich lives here?”

The boy's smile grew bigger.

“Yes, he's my papa.”

 _His papa?_ At that moment, a hand-down somewhat familial car pulled out in the alley, and a woman came out of it carrying grocery bags.

“And she's my mamma!” the boy explained before running to his mother and speaking in a language Ian would have guessed was from Eastern Europe.

Both walked toward the front door, and the woman stopped before Ian, letting her son run inside.

“You look for Mickey?” she asked with a strong accent.

“Yes.” Ian answered. “Are you his... wife?”

“Yes.” the woman said. “And you are Ian.”

“How do you...”

“Mandy talks about you sometimes. And Mickey has a picture of you under his mattress. He thinks I do not see, but I see.”

“Do you know he...”

“Loves penis more than pussy? Yes. But he is good husband, and good father. So I do not care.”

Ian was clearly confused now. When Mandy had said that Mickey wasn't living alone, he had thought that he had a husband, or at least a boyfriend. But that was just...

He didn't have time to ask more questions: a familiar voice came running to his ears from the front door left opened.

“Why is the kid so excited? What the fuck is... Ian?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is named "Two steps from the yard, one man behind bars".
> 
> Little game: who can tell me from where I take the titles of my chapters for this fic (only Part 2)?


	3. Two steps from the yard, one man behind bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, work has been crazy this week.
> 
> Also, this chapter is like 1000 words longer than I had planned, but I got carried away. Anyway...

 

Mickey would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about Ian for the past ten years. He had thought about him more than once, but Ian was his past, he never imagined seeing him again – well, that's not entirely true, but it's not the point here. Here he was. Ian. Standing in Mickey's front yard, next to his wife, a weird look on his face – if Mickey had to guess he would say a mix between pure happiness and utter and profound confusion, and, to be honest, Mickey felt the same way.

The brunet man took a few steps forward until he was outside of his house. Svetlana walked the other way, stepping inside the house and winking not-so-discreetly at Mickey while doing so. Once the front door was closed, Mickey took out a pack of cigarettes from his pants pocket. He lit one, waiting for Ian to break the uncomfortable silence. He could have spoken first, but somehow it had never been the way things work in their relationship, and Mickey wasn't about to break the system now. But Ian didn't talk. Soon, Mickey was chain-smoking, like he always did when he was nervous. An old habit he never lost. He could feel Svetlana and Yevgeny's eyes on his back from the kitchen's window. And Ian was pacing in front of him, leaving a trace in their almost perfect grass. He seemed angry, but he also looked like he wanted to understand. Finally, fucking finally, Ian stopped, right in front of Mickey, hovering him with his too tall body.

“You're married?”

Mickey sighed and let his cigarette fall at his feet, next to all the others. _Sv_ _e_ _t w_ _ill kill him for that_ _..._

“Yes, Svetlana is my wife, but it doesn't mean anything. It's just a piece of paper.”

Ian shoot his eyebrows up. This was obviously an old remain of all the time he spent with Mickey back in the days.

“She's an illegal Russian immigrant. I married her so she can stay in the country.”

“Okay, okay.”

Ian continued his pacing.

“But the kid?”

He stopped again.

“YOU HAVE A KID?!”

Mickey lit another cigarette.

“He's not...” He lowered his voice. He didn't want Yev to hear him. “He's not actually my kid... he's my brother.”

Wow, Mickey realized he hadn't said that out loud for years. Yevgeny really was his kid now.

Ian's voice seemed to have been drained out of him.

“Your brother?” he repeated.

Mickey took a long drag. He wasn't sure he was ready for this talk just yet.

“Yeah... He's Terry's kid. Svetlana was a hand-whore Terry was banging back... then. When she realized she was knocked up, she more or less came live at the house. I think Terry wanted her to marry one of us so he could keep banging her or some shit. But then...”

Mickey swallowed with difficulty.

“Well I just pulled some superhero shit and decided to save as much Milkovich kids I could from this asshole. So I took Mandy, and Svetlana with her unborn baby. And yeah, I married her and helped raise the kid, so Yevgeny thinks his mine. But... I just figured as shit as a dad I am, I'll still always be better than Terry...”

Mickey did his best to contain his tears. It wasn't the time to cry. He couldn't... he couldn't let all that shit get to him after all these years. Everything was better now. They were all safe and happy, and Terry was locked behind bars for the rest of his fucking life.

 

******

 

Ian felt Mickey tense. He wanted him to open up to him, tell him what happened exactly all these years ago. But it wasn't the right time. They hadn't seen each other in ten years. And Ian had more pressing matters in mind. He wanted nothing more than to grab Mickey's face and kiss him until none of them could breath anymore. Yes, he had come here for closure. But really, really, that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Mickey again. He never actually stopped wanting Mickey. He had never stopped loving him.

“Want some beer?”

The question of the other man brought Ian back from his not-so-Catholics thoughts. He nodded and followed Mickey inside the house. He sat on the couch, and was soon joined by the little boy – Yev...something? – who was wearing the biggest smile – damn, this child smiled a lot. Ian smiled back at him and extended his hand.

“I'm Ian. Nice to meet you.”

The boy shook his hand.

“Yevgeny.”

Right.

“Are you my papa new boyfriend?”

Ian almost chocked on his own saliva. That's the moment Mickey chose to come back with a couple of beers in his hand, followed by Svetlana (that was her name right?) with juice for her son.

“He's an old friend.”

 _Friend?_ The word stabbed Ian in the heart – along with the way Mickey was avoiding his eyes – but he decided not to react, Mickey probably didn't want to disturb the – _his_ – kid. Svetlana though, had a knowing look on her face. And she didn't let the awkward silence settle.

“You're a soldier?” she more or less asked – although it could also have been a statement due to Ian's outfit.

The redhead hesitated for a moment, before he nodded.

“Yeah I'm... Yeah.”

“Good for you.” Mickey said. “That's what you always wanted to do right?”

“Right.”

Ian tried to catch Mickey's eyes again, but the mission seemed impossible. So he kept talking.

“And you? What are you doing?”

“Mechanic. In a garage.”

“Good.”

Fuck, he suddenly very much missed the _“_ _You wanna chitchat more or you wanna get on me?”_ Mickey had blurted out so long ago. But it didn't look like that was happening anytime soon...

“And you?” Ian asked, turning to Svetlana.

“Sometimes I'm a cashier, sometimes I'm a waitress.”

He nodded. Yep, small talk was boring. But it kept going for a good hour, both Ian and Mickey sipping their beers slowly, not really looking at each other, Svetlana eyeing them suspiciously, and Yevgeny making occasional jokes, completely oblivious to the situation.

After what felt like forever to the redhead, Svetlana stood up.

“I have to take Yev to the doctor.”

Mickey looked up at her, slightly panicked.

“What? Why?”

“He needs his shot. Remember?”

Mickey slowly nodded while Yevgeny stood up too to follow his mother.

“Okay.” Mickey said. “Later then.”

Mother and son replied, and were out of the house in no time, leaving Ian and Mickey awkwardly facing each other. After a very long minute, Mickey talked again.

“So... the army huh?”

 _That's my cue_ , Ian thought.

 

******

 

“You wanna chitchat more or you wanna get on me?”

Mickey was taken aback by the way Ian blurt out the sentence. But he couldn't stop the way his lips started to smile.

“That's the best you could come up with?”

Ian shrugged.

“T'was mostly symbolic.”

“So you don't want me to get on you?”

“You know I always liked it better the other way around.”

Mickey honestly laughed this time. God, this redhead would be the death of him. And he was ninety percent sure that what was happening right now was a terrible idea. They hadn't seen each other in ten years, and so much had happened in between, they couldn't just jump at each other like they were together the day before. Although... it did feel like yesterday that he was touching Ian's pale skin and was touched by his long fingers... _Oh fuck it!_ Mickey would most definitely regret this, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He quickly stood up and was joined in the middle of the living room by Ian, their lips crashing together like they were in some fucking romantic movie.

 

Holy shit, those lips. He had only kissed them twice, but he hadn't forgotten them. He had even missed them. Ian wasted no time, sliding his tongue into Mickey's mouth, and Mickey let him, responded to him, before slipping his hands under Ian's shirt. More abs than he remembered. The redhead fisted his hand in the hem of Mickey's shirt before tugging at it. The brunet pulled away reluctantly from Ian's lips to take his shirt off himself. The other man did the same, and soon they were back at devouring each other's mouth. Ian kept one hand on Mickey's neck, unzipping Mickey's jeans with the other, before palming his now-hard dick through his boxers. Mickey moaned, and Ian's mouth left his lips to peck kisses along his jaw and neck.

“Bedroom. Bedroom.” Mickey heard himself whispered.

They couldn't do that here, not when Svetlana and Yevgeny could come back at any moment. Ian pulled away from him, and green eyes met blue eyes for what what was probably the first time in ten years. _Fuck._ Mickey wanted him so much. He lead the way upstairs to his bedroom, and he barely had time to lock the door behind him that Ian was already naked, crowding him against the door, his mouth back on his neck.

“You don't waist any time, do you?”

“No.”

Mickey pushed him the other way until they both fell in an entangled mess on the bed. Mickey stood up, getting rid of his clothes quickly, and came back on top of Ian. They kissed hungrily for some more time before the redhead turned them over. Now hovering Mickey, he trailed kisses along his chest, his lower stomach before hekissed the skin right above his cock. His breath was hot against Mickey’s skin and it made him shiver. He started moaning Ian’s name under his breath. He wanted to stop, because really it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t. It was so good. He felt Ian smile and not one second later Ian’s lips were closing around the head of his erection. Mickey let out a long groan.

“Ian”

He reached Ian's hair with his hands and massaged his skull gently. Ian sucked on the head of his dick and let his tongue slide over the slit. Mickey moaned again and Ian pulled off. He trailed his tongue down the shaft and pulled one of Mickey’s balls into his mouth. He sucked on it for a while before moving to the other one. Mickey’s breathing was labored. Ian wasn't this good in his memories. Fuuuuuck. Ian brushed his lips back up Mickey’s cock, and Mickey pulled at his hair.

“Stop. Fuck. Stop.”

Ian's head shot up. Mickey shuddered with the sudden loss of warmth around his dick but he had more pressing matter in head.

“What's wrong?” Ian asked, slightly worried.

“Get the fuck in me.”

Ian smiled and came back up to kiss him again, letting a hand traveled between his ass cheeks. Mickey reached for his bedside table and took a condom and a bottle of lube from the second drawer. He handed them to Ian, and the redhead did a fast but good work to open him up. And finally, fucking finally, he lined up with Mickey’s hole, and without hesitation he slammed in. Mickey’s back arched off of the mattress and a strangled moan escaped his throat.

“Fuuuck” he moaned loudly and twisted his hands in the sheets.

Ian grinned and pulled out before slamming back in. The same strangled noise escaped Mickey’s lips and he clenched making Ian moan with him. He hadn't had sex face to face a lot. Only a few times with his only 'long time' boyfriend before they broke up, but not more than that. The first time he did it with Ian was still a painful but also beautiful memory. And here they were again. Both older, more experimented, but possibly as in love as the first time. Except this time, no such confession escaped any of them.

Ian started pounding relentlessly into him. Mickey arched and moaned with all he had as he tried to hold on to Ian’s back and neck without actually looking at him in the eyes. He gripped Ian’s hair and pulled him against his shoulder. Ian’s pace was unforgiving, and when he finally found Mickey’s prostate, Mickey cried out his name again.

“Fuuuuck, Ian!”

Ian kept the angle and picked up his pace, going deeper and deeper.

“Fuck, Mickey, fuck!” he groaned.

The headboard was hitting the wall regularly and the bed springs were squeaking underneath them. But they didn’t even hear it over their own noises and their skin slapping together. Then Ian wrapped his hand around Mickey’s cock and started pumping it in rhythm with his thrusts, at least as much as he could manage. Mickey was writhing and moaning, and when he clenched around Ian his mouth fell open in a loud moan, and he came all over Ian’s hand and his own chest. Ian pounded into him a couple more times before he too came hard, pressing further into Mickey that he almost lifted Mickey’s back completely off the bed.

“Shiiiit” Ian breathed before collapsing onto Mickey.

The other man couldn't agree more. This was good, so amazingly good, but also absolutely and completely stupid. Ian pulled out and took off the condom before throwing it somewhere at the foot of the bed, and he rolled over, lying next to Mickey.

“I’m surprised we didn’t break the bed.”

Mickey laughed slightly before turning to his bedside table again to grab a pack of cigarettes. He lit one, took a drag, and handed it to Ian, who refused it.

“I quit.”

Mickey nodded. They stayed silent for a while, Mickey smoking, and Ian glancing at the ceiling.

 

Suddenly, Ian raised his upper body, holding himself on an elbow.

“What the fuck happened Mick? When you left?”

Mickey sighed. He didn't want to talk about it, but he also knew it was coming. He couldn't avoid this conversation forever, he just had hoped Ian wouldn't ask so soon.

“You and Mandy left without saying goodbye, and you never answered my textsor my calls!” the redhead added. “I even asked Iggy. He didn't know where the fuck you were!”

“He didn't know at first. We told him when we settled for good in New York.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

Mickey hesitated. The truth? He wanted to call Ian every fucking minute of every fucking day for the first couple of years. But he couldn't... It was too soon, and he had promised Mandy.

“Mandy, Svetlana and I decided to put every Chicago-related memory and everybody from back there behind us.” he finally admitted. “It was better this way. It is better this way.”

“Why? What happened that night Mick? Tell me.”

Mickey took a long drag of his smoke. Ian was looking at him with those big puppy-eyes of his. Mickey sighed. He didn't know why it was so easy to talk to Ian, but it was. Somehow, it had always been.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the revelation everybody is waiting for: “What the fuck happened ten years ago?”. So, I'm warning you in advance there is graphic violence, homophobic slurs, and someone dies. Also, Terry Milkovich.  
> It's called “Buildings ain't crumblin', but they might as well be”, and it was the hardest thing I ever had to write. I cried and asked myself why I was doing that. And when I got the answer, I kept going, but still cried some more. So yeah, be prepared!


	4. Buildings ain't crumblin', but they might as well be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened ten years before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm super late with this chapter, but it has been hell to write and my personal life has been quite busy.
> 
> Also, a few warnings before we get starting: graphic violence, homophobic slurs, someone dies, and also Terry Milkovich.

**Ten years earlier...**

 

_Welcome to hell little sis._

Mickey was about to go back to his bedroom when he heard someone knocking loudly on the front door. And because Mandy didn't seem like she was going to move any time soon, he dragged himself to the entrance of the house, half-praying it wasn't Ian, half-hoping it washim. But when he opened the door he was met with deep gray eyes circled by heavy make-up, a sad glimpse buried not so deep down.

“If you're looking for Terry, or one of the Milkovich sons, they ain't here.”

The girl – who Mickey had, by now, guessed she was a hooker – smiled.

“You not a Milkovich son?” she asked with a strong accent.

Mickey snorted.

“Not interested.”

He made a move to close the door, but she stopped him with her left hand, keeping the door open. Mickey shrugged and turned on his heels to finally go back into his bedroom. He didn't care at all if the girl was there to stay, or to rob them – not that they had anything to rob anyway. Hell, she could even be there to burn the house down, he wouldn't give a damn.

“When Terry is back?” she called after him.

Mickey made a vague hand gesture.

“The fuck if I know.”

 

When he came out of his bedroom again a few hours later, his stomach asking for solid food, the hooker was still sitting on the couch, talking energetically with Mandy. Mickey made his way to the kitchen where he found some leftover pizza, probably cold for a couple of days already. He ate it standing up, leaning against the counter, looking at the two girls on the couch without really seeing them. He should call Ian. Or at least text. He was really missing him, and he started to feel bad about the way he left things with him. Mandy's voice dragged him from his revery.

“She's knocked up.”

“What?”

Mandy, who was now leaning next to him against the kitchen counter, nodded toward the girl on the couch.

“Svetlana. She's knocked up.”

Why the fuck should Mickey care about that?

“And?”

“It's Terry's.”

“Or not. She's a fucking hooker. It could be any drunk prick of the neighborhood.”

“She's a hand-whore. She doesn't do the full ride.”

Mickey snorted. _Yeah, right._ Mandy elbowed him.

“I don't really know how she ended up with Terry, but she thinks he's going to take care of her and the baby.”

“That's why she's here? Well, she's out of luck then, ain't she?”

Mickey made a move to go back to his room when Mandy grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Come on Mick, she's nice. We gotta do something to help her!”

“How d'you figure that?”

“If she keeps the baby, we will be family!”

Mickey rubbed his nose with his fingers.

“Mandy... Do you know how many of Terry's bastards are running the streets? We can't take them all home, we ain't a shelter!”

“Okay, be an asshole, I'll deal with her on my own!”

Mickey watched her sister walk back to the couch. Since when did Mandy care about the hookers Terry knocked up, or went all the way to Milwaukee to get some random half-sister they barely knew? God, she was getting soft. Probably spent too much time with those Gallaghers. _Speaking of..._ Mickey made his way back to his bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

 

Mickey was woken up in the middle of the night by Mandy screaming.

“Dad stop! Please stop!”

He hadn't heard those words in this high-pitch tone in a long time. Mickey's heart was pounding, his breath getting short. Shit. He grabbed his sheets and was tempted for one traitorous second to hide under them until the screaming stop, like when he was little and it was his mother he heard. _Fuck._ He couldn't do that now. He had to protect Mandy. He got up hastily and made his way to Mandy's room. His brain was blank from terror, and his heart felt like it was about to jump out of his chest.

When he reached Mandy's bedroom, Mickey took a moment to understand what was happening. Iggy was already there, trying to grab a hold of their father who was relentlessly punching someone on the bed.

“Come on dad, stop!”

But it wasn't Mandy the target. She was curled up at the foot of her bed, holding her face with her hands, crying and hiding the bruises that already started to show.

“No son of mine will be a fucking pussy! Fucking faggot!”

Mickey's heart skipped a beat. _What the fuck? What was going on?_

It's the moment Iggy chose to catch a glimpse of his brother.

“Come on Mick, do something! Help me!”

Mickey wasn't thinking anymore. He still wasn't sure what exactly was going on, but it didn't matter. He jumped on his father's back and grabbed his neck. He could still hear his words, raw and harsh.

“Think it's okay to dress like a girl? I'm gonna teach you!”

The punching kept going for way too long. Mickey trying to strangle his persistent and fucking strong father, Iggy trying to hold his arms to keep him from hurting the small body on the bed, and Mandy crying in her corner. Mandy wasn't the type to cry. She was a Milkovich, she was warrior, but Mickey could understand her sudden weakness, himself wanted to just go back to hiding in his bed until he woke up from this nightmare. But he couldn't. It wasn't a dream, it was real. This was really happening. Terry was going after his youngest-known child because said-child was wearing the wrong type of clothes – according to the patriarch.

 

Finally, the two Milkovich boys managed to overcome their father. When they knocked him unconscious to the ground, everything went silent. Mandy was rocking back and forth, her arms around her legs, like she used to do sometimes when she was a little girl. The sheets on the bed had turned an ugly scarlet color. Mickey couldn't look. He knew. But he couldn't look directly at the scene. He caught Iggy's eyes before he decided to break the silence.

 

“We need to call the police.”

“What happened to 'Milkoviches don't rat on family'?”

“This rule doesn't apply when one of us is fucking dead!”

Mickey's throat tightened when he said the word. Mandy squealed.

“Okay” Iggy conceded. “But you need to leave. You don't want to be here when he wakes up.”

He made a vague hand gesture toward Terry's body lying at his feet.

“What about you?”

“Come on, the police'll need a witness, and we all know Terry won't hurt me as much as he would hurt the both of you.”

Iggy had a knowing look in his eyes while saying that. And Mickey understood his brother knew more than he let on.

“Plus, I can take a beating.” he added half jokingly.

Mickey hesitated, letting his eyes travel between his suddenly very confident brother and his sister still curled up on the ground, avoiding looking directly at the bed. He didn't want to let Iggy alone to deal with Terry, but he also knew his brother was right, Terry wasn't as harsh on him as he was on Mandy and Mickey. Plus, their father would probably be thrown in jail sooner or later – and for a long time.

“Fuck Iggy!” Mickey finally let out.

He almost hugged him, but stopped at the last second, choosing to kneel near Mandy instead. He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on Mands, we need to go.”

She raised her big blue eyes toward him, looking even more like a little child. Mickey tightened his hold on her, and helped her standing up.

“I'm coming too.”

Mickey turned around. Svetlana was looking at them darkly, standing steadily in the door frame.

“I do not want this man near my baby.”

Mickey sighed. _Shit._ He looked at Mandy, who was grasping his shirt tightly. _Oh fuck it!_

“Okay, okay. Let's get a move on then!”

 

An hour later, they were driving away from Chicago. Mandy was leaning in a fetal position against the window in the back seat of the car. Svetlana was stealing glances at her when she wasn't side-eyeing Mickey, who was driving silently. He took one last look of the city in the rearview mirror and his thoughts drifted to Ian. He should have said goodbye. He was walking away from him for good, forever, and the last time he had seen him he had thrown him unceremoniously from his house. He shook his head, redirecting his eyes on the road. But he couldn't stop the tears from falling. He pulled the car on the side of the road and got out as fast as he could. He closed the door violently, and kicked the front wheel. Sand flied around. He put the heels of his hands on his eyes. _FUCK!!!_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter doesn't have a title yet, but I promise I'll try to post it without too much delay.


	5. I want you in my bed in a minute flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Ian and Mickey's reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest, my updating schedule for this fic has gone rogue. I promised to post quickly this chapter but unfortunately I spent the last 8 days binge-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and fangirling over Jerome in Gotham, so, yeah, I have no valid excuse.
> 
> But I'm still sorry, and hope you'll enjoy where I'm going with this story.

 

Mickey sat on the edge on the bed, Ian beside him, a gentle hand on his tight. Both of them were still naked but they didn't seem to notice, or to care.

“I'm sorry.”

Mickey lit his umpteenth cigarette.

“Not your fault.”

Ian slightly ran his hand up and down for a moment.

“I love you.”

Mickey let out a chuckle and stood up brusquely. He ran his hand not holding the cigarette on his face.

“You can't... You don't know me anymore. And I don't know you.”

“But...”

Mickey didn't let the redhead finish his sentence.

“This...” he gestured vaguely to the bed, Ian and his own naked body. “was good, very good. But it can't happen again.”

“Why?”

“Because of Yevgeny, because of Svetlana, and because of me.”

“We've known each other for twenty years and you're gonna pick some random hooker you married over me?”

“Just... go. Please.”

Ian was pissed, but it was better this way, Mickey told himself. He wasn't lying, they didn't know each other anymore. He didn't know where Ian lived, who his friends were, what he liked to do after work, or other little things like that. They couldn't just pick up where they left off.

 

After Ian left, Mickey slept for only a couple of hours before his alarm rang. He woke up sour, grumpy, and with his ass hurting. He hadn't had enough sleep, but at least he had something to show for it.

Svetlana was in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready. Mickey poured himself a cup of coffee in his favorite mug – Yevgeny had decorated it and offered it to him two years ago for Father's Day.

“Where is Orange boy?”

Mickey sat at his usual place at the table.

“Gone.”

“Why?”

“None of your business.”

“Is he coming back?”

“No.”

Svetlana filled a plate with the eggs she was cooking and handed it to him.

“But you love him.”

Mickey was already tired of this conversation.

“I don't.”

“So why you jerk off to his picture?”

Mickey almost spilled his coffee.

“What the fuck?”

“The picture. Under your mattress.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I clean, so I see.”

“Well it will be a very useful skill for when Yev'll be a teenager.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

Mickey sighed.

“I don't do that anymore.”

“Jerk off?”

“To his picture.”

“Too bad. He's hot. Must be good.”

Oh my god. Mickey raised his eyebrows in amazement. Was he actually having this conversation with his wife? It's true that they never slept together – yes, Svetlana had tried once, but this was before she knew he was gay – and they didn't even share the same bedroom but still, this conversation was fucking weird. Thankfully, Yevgeny arrived right this moment, so his mother focused all of her attention on him.

But just before they both left for school and Mickey was about to go to work, she whispered two words to him.

“Call him.”

“Mind your own business!”

Holy fuck.

 

******

 

Ian took the earliest bus he could find back to New York City. Once there, he didn't wander around like he usually liked to do, he went directly back to James and Ashtin's place, and curled up in his spot on the couch. He was tired, so very tired.

 

******

 

Mickey spent his workday trying not to think about Ian. But it wasn't easy. The redhead took a gigantic place in his mind. These last few years, he had managed to tuck him in a dark corner, but now he was back in the front, like when they were kids.

Mickey was working on a car, focusing way too hard on his job, when Kira came walking toward him. She was the boss's daughter and was helping around the garage when she wasn't in class – her father had payed for her to go to college if she, in exchange, agreed to work for him for free for those four years. She had this big knowing smile stuck on her face.

“Flirty costumer is back.” she announced. “And he wants to know if you're done with his car, so you can do him now.”

The girl winked, proud of her little innuendo. Mickey shook his head.

“Jesus, seriously Kira? This is kinda gross.”

“Oh really? But when it's your wife or your sister saying it, it isn't?”

“It's even more gross when they're the ones saying stuff like that.”

Kira smiled some more while Mickey grabbed the towel she was handing him to remove roughly the grease from his hands. 'Flirty costumer' as they both called him was a guy about Mickey's age who very clearly had a crush on him. He first came to the garage a few months ago for an actual reparation on his car, but since then he came back every other week with some minor demand and always asked for Mickey. He wasn't unattractive, tall and fit with sandy blond hair and dark blue eyes. And maybe he was a little too mannered for Mickey's taste, but he could honestly be much worse. Today he was wearing a beige suit that really did him well, but Mickey couldn't help but think that a certain redhead would be even more gorgeous in it. He shook his head lightly to keep his mind from wandering too far on that road and greeted his costumer with a smile.

“Mr Carter. Your car is ready, this way please.”

The costumer followed him happily.

“I already told you you can call me Tom.”

“I'm just trying to stay professional.”

“What if I don't want you to?”

Mickey tried to ignore the suggestive look the guy was giving him and gestured toward the car.

“I took the liberty to check the breaks and the oil level. Everything is in order. You can see with Kira for the bill and she will give you your keys back. Of course, we only charged you for what you asked, and not for the extra work we did, this is on the house to thank you for your loyalty.”

“Alright, thank you very much. I'll see you in a couple of weeks I guess, I was thinking of changing my tires for the snow ones early this year.”

Mickey hold onto a laugh.

“Don't you think it's a little too soon? We're only in September.”

“I heard snow's coming early this year.”

Mickey was torn between telling the guy he was stupid for spending money on new tires so soon, and telling him his way of flirting was absolutely horrendous. Was it even called flirting at this point? It was just ridiculous. Instead, he said something that surprised himself as it came out of his mouth.

“Are you free tonight? There's this new burger place on Central Avenue I wanted to try.”

The guy's smile was so bright Mickey was afraid it was going to break his face.

“Yes, of course!” he almost shouted. “Pick me up at six?”

Mickey nodded and the guy gave him his address. At that exact moment, he noticed Kira standing a few feet away from them and showing a thumb up behind the costumer's back.

 

******

 

Ian stayed on the couch all day. It wasn't really that he was feeling tired, it was more like an immense fatigue suddenly crushing him and keeping him from moving. He slept from times to times but mostly stayed tuck under the blankets, shutting himself from the world.

 

******

 

When Mickey came back home, Yevgeny sat at the kitchen table, doing his maths homework, while Svetlana was trying to more or less supervise him and cook mac and cheese at the same time.

“Mickey!” she called when he entered. “Yevy needs help. And John called, I have to work tonight.”

Mickey was about to read above his son's shoulder when Svetlana's words hit him.

“I can't stay here tonight. I have a date.”

His wife's eyes lit up.

“A date? With Carrot Boy?”

Mickey shook his head and bit his lower lip, thinking.

“Maybe Chloe from next door can come babysit again?”

Svetlana nodded and reached for her phone.

“I call her.” she said while dialing. “Why don't you have a date with Ian?”

Yevgeny's head shoot up.

“Ian is coming back?”

Mickey threw a dark look at his wife, before smiling gently to his son.

“No, Ian is gone. He was just here for a quick visit.”

“But I thought he was your boyfriend. It's what mom told me...”

The boy sounded almost sad that it wasn't the truth, it broke Mickey's heart.

“Svetlana, I swear to god!”

She raised her hands in defense, already in an intense phone conversation with their neighbor's teenage daughter. Mickey went back to his son.

“Ian wasn't my boyfriend. I'm sorry we made you feel like he was.”

“So he's gone forever?”

“Probably yeah.”

“Too bad, I liked him.”

Mickey smiled weakly at that. Ian had always had his way with kids, he remembered him helping out with Debbie's day care activity and really enjoying it. But it wasn't good that Yevgeny was already attached while having spent only an hour with the guy. Mickey had only introduced one of his boyfriends to his son, and they had been going out for six months already. And the kid had such a big heart that it was broken when Mickey had split up with the guy a few months later. So they had this rule with Svetlana that they would never introduce their dates to their son unless they felt it was really serious. That's how the boy only met three people over the course of ten years. And each time, he got way too attached way too soon.

 

An hour later, Mickey had showered, shaved, and put on his nicest pants with a black button-up shirt, and he was buzzing at the front door of Tom's apartment building. The man joined him downstairs way too quickly – Mickey imagined him fidgeting near his home buzzer for most of the evening. He was wearing an outfit more casual than at the garage that afternoon, more in Mickey's usual style. The brunet man smiled, before starting with the lame bad news of the night.

“Do you mind if we take your car? I had to take the bus because my w... roommate – he had almost said 'wife', rookie mistake – took our only car.”

The other man smiled.

“Of course not.” he said brightly, before adding with a wink: “Plus we both know it's in excellent shape thanks to you.”

Mickey smiled politely. Maybe this date wasn't such a good idea in the end... He wanted to forget about Ian, but going out with the first looser with a weird obsession for him wasn't probably the best way to go.

 

And indeed, the date was awful. The guy was dull and couldn't stop talking about himself, when he wasn't doing very bad innuendos. When they exited the restaurant – where, thankfully, they were able to split the bill – Tom tried to kiss Mickey, who honestly considered cutting his tongue out before opting for an awkward ducking so Tom's lips ended on his cheek. But when the man asked him if he should drive him home, Mickey, who had been drinking way too much alcohol to try without much success to drown Tom's constant talking, saw himself suggest going back to his apartment. After all, the guy might be dull, but could still be very good in bed.

He wasn't. First of all, he was a bottom. Mickey didn't mind topping, but it really was less fun. Second, the guy still did not stop talking. He was like the fucking donkey in Shrek, only ten times more annoying. And Mickey was seriously this close to cut his tongue out. So when they both had put their clothes on again and Tom asked Mickey if he wanted a ride, Mickey decided that he would rather walk the two miles that separated him to his house than to spend one more minute with this guy and his big mouth – which wasn't even good at sucking dick.

 

******

 

“Ian? You okay? You've been lying here all day.”

Ashtin's voice was soft and motherly. But Ian couldn't... He couldn't bring himself to be remotely sociable right now, or even to get himself from under the cover. So he gathered all the remaining strength he had in his body to speak three little words.

“Leave me alone.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been very self-conscious about my writing lately, so please leave kudos and comments to help me improve or just reassure me in what I'm doing. Thanks :)


	6. I bet you never guessed or came prepared for this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey narrates his date to Mandy.  
> Ian isn't well, so Lip comes to the rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hesitated for a very long time before deciding whether or not I was going to include Ian's bipolar disorder in my story, mostly because I don't know anything about it and I didn't felt comfortable writing (especially in Ian's POV) about something I don't know anything about when there are people struggling with it every day. But then I learned some stuff about my family's health history (and therefore my own genetics), so I started to read a lot about it (from medical journals to personal blogs), and I finally decided to include the disorder in my fic, mostly as a way of catharsis. So I'm trying my best to remain accurate, but if you have any suggestion to improve myself on the matter please tell me, I'm totally open to discussion.

 

 “Hello, Philip Gallagher speaking.”

“Hi. You're Ian's brother right?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“James Pratt. I was Ian's roommate in West Point. We met at graduation a few years ago.”

“Oh yes right. Nice to hear from you again. Are you looking for Ian?”

“No. He's actually been staying at our place for a few weeks now.”

“Oh that's where he is!”

“He didn't tell you?”

“No. No he didn't.”

“Well he's here. And... It's very nice to have him here: he has a lot of energy and he's great with the kids. But lately he... Well he was gone for a couple of days and when he came back... Well he hasn't moved, he's been lying on the couch for almost three days now.”

“Shit. And you said he had a lot of energy before?”

“Yes. He was... unstoppable, like back when we were just kids in West Point.”

“Damn it Ian!”

“Do you know what this is?”

“Yeah... Yeah... Give me your address I'll come right away.”

“You live in New York too?”

“No. But I'll take the next plane I find and I'll be there as soon as possible. In the meantime, don't leave him alone. And... hide the knives.”

 

******

 

Mickey had told Mandy about his terrible date. It was what they had become now, siblings who talked to each other about their love lives. Mandy could distinctively remember when it had begun, it was about two weeks after they left Chicago.

 

“ _So, how's married life treating you? Aren't you freaking out that you'll only see one and only one pussy for the rest of your life?”_

“ _Mands... It's not... Svetlana isn't... I'm not... Well I am...”_

“ _Gay?”_

“ _... Yeah... Wait! How'd you figured it out?”_

“ _You know how many texts and calls from Ian you've been dodging since we left? Three times more than me! I'm may not be a genius, but I'm not that stupid!”_

“ _... Sorry I didn't... tell you... you know... before...”_

“ _You love him?”_

“ _Fuck off!”_

 

They didn't talk that much about a certain redhead after that, but as Mandy had said: she wasn't that stupid. Even though her brother had a good life he was miserable because someone important was missing. Yes, it was sappy as shit, but it was the truth. Mandy had never felt that way for anyone before. Don't be mistaken, she loved her husband very much, but it had always been easy and simple between them, there had never been passion or fire, and maybe it was for the best – especially when Mandy saw what passion did to her brother – but maybe just a tiny part of her needed passion, needed the constant fight it came with. She was southside so that's what she always witnessed, and that's why she had been more than happy to meet Jeremy, the sweet gentle man without an inch of violence in his bones, and had been more than impatient to jump into this drama-less relationship with him. She didn't regret it, but she sometimes missed something she never truly had.

“The man couldn't stop talking. I swear if I had brought my knife I would have cut his tongue out!”

Her brother was rambling now, filling the silence with more and more about his annoying date, doing everything he could to avoid talking about the person they should actually be talking about.

“Okay Mick you had a bad date. Like it didn't happen a hundred and twenty eight times before.” Mandy said, her boredom creeping up.

“Are you keeping records of my dating life? What the hell Mandy?”

“Oh I'm not the one keeping tabs, these numbers come from Svetlana, she's the one with the book!”

“You two should definitely stop talking! Especially about me! … And they weren't that many...”

“Yeah yeah...” Mandy sighed, changing her phone from one ear to the other. “How's Ian?”

“What?”

“Oh come on! How'd you think he found your address, moron?”

“I should have known...”

“Yeah you should have.”

The coffee pot biped and Mandy poured some of the hot drink in her mug.

“So, did you sleep with him?”

“Mandy....”

“Mick.”

Her brother sighed on the other side of the line.

“Yeah... I slept with him...”

“How was it?”

“Mandy! I'm not gonna share the details of my sex life with you!”

Mandy shuddered.

“Eww! Yeah you're right, I don't wanna know. But still, what happened? He still in wonderful Albany?”

“First of, fuck you, it's a very nice city.”

Mandy snorted. Since when did Mickey care about living in a 'nice city'?

“And no, he's not here anymore.”

“Why did he leave?”

“Because I told him too.”

Mandy put her mug down with too much violence.

“Mickey fucking Milkovich! Why did you do that?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Mick...”

“I have to go Mandy.”

“Mick come on!”

“I don't wanna talk about it. See ya.”

And with that he hang up. Mandy took a deep breath. Her brother was a serious jackass.

She finished her coffee slowly. It was a lazy Saturday morning, 11a.m. and she was still in her pajamas. Her thoughts drifted to Ian. It had been almost a week since he came knocking at her door, and after he quickly left to run to Mickey she hadn't heard from him. To be honest, she was hurt. Did her ex-best friend only reconnect with her to be able to find and bang her brother? Her eyes drifted to her phone still in her hand. She let her finger scroll trough her contacts until it stopped above the redhead's name. She clicked on the green icon. It rang. And it rang again. And again. And again. Until she reached the voicemail. She tried again. No more luck. So she left a message. Ian didn't call her back. Mandy tried to call him again in the afternoon, twice. And twice more in the evening. She left three voicemails. She didn't want to seem too insistent but she started to worry.

On Sunday, when she still didn't have any news from Ian, she decided to go see for herself. She remembered him saying that he was staying with some friends not so far away from her own apartment, and she had their names so she found the place easily.

 

******

 

Ian knew that his friends had called his brother. He had seen James take his phone, look for the number, and then call Lip. He knew Ashtin had tried to make him eat and take him to the bathroom. He knew Zayden had given him one of his stuffed animals. He knew all of it, he had registered all of it, but he didn't move, didn't say anything. He couldn't.

And Lip arrived. He talked to James and Ashtin for a little while. Then he talked to Ian. He sat next to him. He yelled at him. And finally he gave him his meds. Ian took them.

 

******

 

“Fuck Ian, we've been through this before. Why didn't you keep with your meds?”

Lip watched his brother fully turn his body on the couch so he wouldn't have to face him. The older Gallagher sighed and stood up. He had called Ian's psychiatrist on his way here and she had given him the name of a colleague in New York City, and he fully intended on bringing his brother to him as soon as he would be able to leave this couch, but in the meantime he just had to keep an eye on him. Lip was pissed. For years, Ian had been saying over and over that he didn't want to become like Monica, but still he kept fucking up as soon as he got the chance. Fiona and him were tired to look after their big little brother when they had so much more shit to handle in their daily life, but still, everytime Ian was in trouble they would run to help him. Family first, wasn't that the Gallagher motto?

Lip walked to the kitchen to drink his fourth cup of coffee already. After he arrived, James and Ashtin had decided to take their little family to Ashtin's parents for the weekend, keeping the children away from the depressing ambiance of their house, leaving Lip alone to deal with Ian. And he was actually happy with this set-up, it was easier without little kids around.

He was about to make himself – and eventually Ian if he was ready to eat – some toast when he heard a knock on the door. He hesitated for a beat. He wasn't in his own home, should he answer the door? Finally, he decided on doing it, and opened the front door of the apartment, only to be meet with...

“Mandy?”

She seemed as surprised as he was.

“Hi... Lip.”

“Are you friend with James and Ashtin?”

“No, I never met them. Are you?”

“Barely know them. So... why are you there?”

“I could ask you the same question!”

“I'm here for Ian.”

“Me too.”

The two were still in the entrance, scanning each other. But the awkward silence didn't get the time to settle, as Mandy break it off quickly.

“So, you gonna let me in or what?”

Lip smiled at the bluntness of the girl – woman, she was a woman now, and a very pretty one he might had – and stepped away, letting her walk in before he closed the door.

“Did James call you too?”

Mandy looked back at him, surprised.

“No. I just came to check on Ian because I haven't heard from him in a while. Is something wrong?”

Lip sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Nothing more than usual.”

“What do you mean?”

 _She didn't know?_ They were still in the entrance of the apartment, so Lip took a step forward before letting Mandy in the living room.

“When was the last time you saw Ian?”

“A week ago.”

“And before that?”

“About ten years ago.”

“So he didn't tell you?”

“Tell me what? Fuck Lip, you're scaring me!”

Lip sighed again and dropped his voice, without really knowing why.

“Ian's bipolar.”

He saw Mandy swallow heavily.

“Like your mom?”

Lip nodded. After a few second of what seemed like thinking, Mandy nodded too, just like she wanted to say 'Okay, I can deal with that.'

“Can I see him?”

“He's depressed Mandy.”

 

******

 

Facing Lip and his knowing-it-all answers, Mandy felt the very primal Milkovich urge to punch this Gallagher smartass.

“So what if he's depressed? You afraid I'll break him? I won't.”

“He might not talk you, or even register you're here.”

Mandy sighed.

“I don't care. I want to see my friend.”

She pushed Lip aside, a little more violently than necessary, and entered the living room of these people she didn't know. Ian was lying on the couch, buried under several layers of very colorful blankets, letting only his red hair come out of this mountain of comfy material. Mandy approached him carefully and sat on the coffee table. Ian was facing the other side and he didn't even flinch when she arrived.

“Hey.” she said softly. “You didn't call me after you took off to Albany. Didn't even bother to give me all the juicy details of your reunion. Not that I would have enjoy that, the thought only of you fucking my brother is...”

She shuddered, letting out a small chuckle. Ian didn't react. She looked up to meet Lip's eyes. He seemed conflicted between a very obvious 'I told you so' and the confusion that had certainly hit him when hearing Mandy's words. She smiled, and went back to Ian.

“It was nice to see you again Ian. I had missed you.”

She waited for a beat. No reaction.

“I have to go back to my kids. But we definitely need to bitch over coffee one of these days, so call me, text me, whatever.”

She stood up and patted her friend slightly on the shoulder, before making her way back to the door. She felt Lip following her, until they were both in the entrance again.

“What are you gonna do?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“I gave him his meds, and I wait til he's a bit better before taking him to a psychiatrist.”

It looked like a very well rehearsed routine.

“It happened before?”

Lip sighed again.

“Yeah... a few times. He was diagnosed during his first year in the army and honorably discharged. He takes his meds, sometimes. But he doesn't like how they make him feel, and because he's a stubborn fucker he never takes them long enough for them to adjust and actually work. And I'm pretty sure he only takes them when one of us is around, so we're not on his ass about it.”

Fuck, this wasn't good. Mandy's mind went back to all these times during their childhood when Monica was around and how much Ian was suffering with her behavior.

“Call me, if you need anything.” she said. “And even if you don't. I want to know how he is. And I'll try to come back during the week.”

Lip nodded.

When he closed the door behind her, and Mandy found herself alone in the hallway, she had only one more thought in mind: she had to call Mickey.

 

 


	7. I'll be your dream tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian goes to the doctor.  
> It's Mickey's turn to not be well.

 

Mandy had another nightmare that night. It started as always, she was back in the cold, gray house, lying in her bed. She heard a sound that woke her up, and it was usually the moment when Terry came in her bedroom. But this time the sound was different, unfamiliar, and it was coming from another part of the room. So she climbed out of bed, looking for its origin. And there, half-lying, his back against the wall, she found Ian, bathing in his own blood, his wrists cut off. No, no, no, no, no, this couldn't be happening...

Mandy woke up suddenly, her face wet with sweat. She didn't check if her husband was still sleeping, or what time it was, like she usually did. She just grabbed her phone and headed toward the bathroom. She put some cold water on her face, before dialing the number she knew by heart. It rang twice, and then a grumpy voice answered.

“What the fuck Mandy?”

“Mick, I need to talk to you.”

“It's three in the fucking morning!”

“It's important.”

“More important than my sleep?”

“Yes!”

 

******

 

Mickey was having a sweet ass dream, full of red hair and green eyes, when his stupid phone rang. He had forgotten to put it on silent before going to bed. He blindly reached it, and was about to shut it down when he checked the caller ID. Mandy never called him at... _3.16am? What the fuck?_

“What the fuck Mandy?”

“Mick, I need to talk to you.”

“It's three in the fucking morning!”

“It's important.”

“More important than my sleep?”

“Yes!”

His sister's voice was steady, but he could discern a slight edge to it that he hadn't heard in a long time. It was scary as fuck, but he tried to keep calm.

“What's going on?”

“It's Ian...”

“Fuck Mandy, are you calling me in the middle of the night to tell me I shouldn't have tell him to go away?”

“No asshole! He's... He's sick.”

“What's wrong with him?”

“He has bipolar disorder, like their mom.”

“Bi- what? What the fuck?”

“Manic depression Mick. Like high highs, follow by low lows. Over and over again.”

Mickey felt his breath catching up in his throat. He knew what it was. Ian had mentioned his mom, back in the days. He took a second to think it over. _Fuck._

“He told you?” he suddenly asked. Did Ian tell Mandy and not him? Why?

“No he didn't tell me. I went to see him at his friends' place. He was bad, and Lip was there. He's the one who told me. It's been going on for years. Ian doesn't take his meds on a regular basis like he should, he just fucks it up and it never ends well.”

Mickey tried to keep a steady breathing. He wanted to cry, but also to yell, but because none of that was meant for his sister, he tried his best to sound even.

“So Lip's got it?”

Mandy sighed.

“Yeah, I guess he does. But you should go see Ian. I don't know half of what happened between you two, but I'm pretty sure it couldn't hurt if you go there.”

“You don't know that. Maybe I'll make it worst.”

“No, it's true I don't know. But I also can't see how you could make it worse.”

Mickey breathed deeply.

“I’ll think about it.”

And he hang up. He didn't say goodbye to his sister, or even ask how she was, he just couldn't do it at this moment. He left his bed, and slowly made his way to the kitchen. He had promised himself (and Svetlana) to stop drinking randomly at any time of the day or night, and to keep the alcohol for special occasion, but this definitely called for a fresh beer. He opened the bottle and took a sip. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wasn't in love with Ian anymore. He didn't know him anymore. He had nothing to do with him anymore. But he still cared. Fuck he cared, so much, too much, way more that he wanted to care.

 

******

 

Ian took the pills Lip gave him everyday. He didn't like it, didn't like them, didn't like how they usually made him feel, but – even though the dosage wasn't totally adapted to his current state – he still felt his depression slightly wear off, at least enough for him to leave the couch, start eating and shower again, and follow Lip to the doctor he had found.

“What'd you tell to Mandy?”

The two brothers were sitting on the subway, on their way to the psychiatrist. Lip didn't take his eyes off his phone.

“The truth.”

“Meaning?”

Lip sighed, still not taking his eyes off his phone, he seemed to get more annoyed by the minute.

“Meaning that you don't take your meds, and you don't give a shit about us, your family and friends who love you. And that even though you're 27, I still had to come all the way down here to drag your ass out of bed and accompany you to the fucking doctor. All that because you refuse to realize that you're sick.”

Ian dropped his head and looked down at his hands resting on his knees.

“Fuck you Lip.” he muttered, barely audible.

The older Gallagher finally raised his eyes to watch his brother.

“No. Fuck you Ian! I have a job you know! And a life outside of your useless ass! I can't drop everything to take care of you!”

Ian suddenly stood up. He didn't yell, but his voice wasn't even anymore.

“You know what? Nobody asked you to be there, so if you wanna leave, it's fine by me!”

Lip chuckled darkly.

“Fine!”

It was his turn to stand up, and the next time the train's doors opened he got out, leaving Ian behind.

 

******

 

“Your brother called me to make the appointment. He said you were having a depressive episode. And I talked to my colleague in Chicago, Dr Young. She told me that she doesn't see you very often.”

Ian nodded. True. He didn't visit his doctor that much. The man sitting in front of him opened his folder.

“Bipolar 1, acute mania, with psychotic features. Diagnosed four years ago by Dr Kelly, Army Medical Corps Officer.”

Ian nodded again. He knew all that.

“Do you take your prescription everyday?”

Ian shook his head.

“No. It depends on days.”

“Why don't you take your medicine?”

Ian's white hands with his long fingers were resting on his knees. He looked at them for a little while. They were steady, immobile. Sometimes he wished all of him was this way. When he spoke again, his voice sounded distant even to himself.

“They make me feel awful. Like life is not worth living.”

And on the contrary, when he wasn't depressed, he felt good, so good, with so much energy. It was like he could do anything in the world, so what was a little depression from times to times if it allowed him to feel that way when it was over?

“Ian, you need to give your medication some time to actually be working. And it takes a little experimentation to find the right cocktail for your specific mind. There's no magic bullet when it comes to medication, one size doesn't fit all.”

Ian nodded. He had heard the speech before. And he had the answer ready.

“I try keep a routine like Dr Young told me to do. And I take my meds when I feel the depression creeping up. I can usually handle it. This was an exceptional episode.”

“It's not what your brother told me.”

Ian stayed silent and went back to his hands. Fucking Lip. He could handle his disease, fuck you very much. The doctor sighed.

“Do you ever had moments of paranoia?”

Ian didn't say anything once again. Okay, so yeah, a little depression from times to times and some hallucinations, not such a big cost when you knew what was on the 'plus column'.

The doctor started to scribble on his bloc-note.

“I'm writing you a week-prescription for Lithium, Olanzapine and Aripiprazole. As soon as you're back to Chicago, please go back to see Dr Young.”

Ian nodded one last time.

 

******

 

“Lip's an asshole anyway.”

Mandy nodded. Yep, apparently the oldest Gallagher son hadn't changed that much. Mandy and Ian were finally having their coffee date before the red hair had to take his plane back to Chicago. James and Ashtin hadn't actually threw him out, but they needed some family time now, and they also feared that Ian wasn't a very stable element for their children. To be honest, Mandy understood that. Her own kids lived in a happy little bubble that she wasn't ready to break yet, and seeing Ian as depressed as he was this last week wasn't something a normal 8-year-old should be witnessing. So she settled for letting her friend go back to his family, it was probably better that way, wasn't it?

“Did Mickey come to see you?” she suddenly asked.

Ian raised his head, surprised.

“No. Why? He should have?”

Mandy shrugged and turned her spoon in her cup.

“I just suggested him to.”

Ian had an unreadable expression on his face. Hurt maybe, but also upset, and probably sad, or mad in love. Mandy had lost her ability to read him – and he had always been good at keeping things from her anyway, Mickey was the living proof of that.

“Well he didn't come.” Ian finally said. “It's not like he cares anyway...”

“I'm sure he does.”

“And I'm sure he doesn't.”

Mandy wanted to insist, to say that her brother had never loved and would never love someone more than he loved Ian, but it wasn't the right time or place, so she went for:

“Coming back for my birthday on the 19th ?”

******

 

Mickey was woken up by a foot in his ribs and a loud shouting tainted by a strong Russian accent.

“Up!”

He rolled on his back, forgetting he was on the couch, and therefore falling with a hard 'thump' on the wooden floor.

“Fuck.” he mumbled.

Svetlana was standing in front of him, her hands on her hips, looking more dangerous than ever.

“You reek! You drink all night?”

Mickey ran his hand over his face.

“Didn't drink all night... I fell asleep at some point...”

“On the couch? Where Yevgeny can find you?”

“Sorry.”

“Why you drink?”

Mickey didn't have an answer for that. He slowly stood up, and walked past his wife to go take a shower. The hot water just started running when the shower curtain was violently pulled open, leaving Mickey's naked body exposed to his angry Russian wife.

“The fuck?”

“You become like your father! I do not want you like that near my Yevgeny!”

“Fuck you! You don't know what you're talking about!”

“You drink, and smoke, and do not care about us! You here or not, it's the same!”

“Yeah, well I ain't beating the shit out of you, ain't I?”

Svetlana's eyes became darker, her tone was low and menacing.

“If you do that, I kill you. I do not want you here like that. So you become father again, or you leave!”

And with that, she left the room.

 

******

 

“I'm not drinking.” Mickey said for what felt like the hundredth time to his sister. “I just had a few beers.”

Mandy had called him as soon as he was out of the shower, Svetlana had certainly complained to her.

“A few beers all night and every night for the last two weeks? What's going on Mick?”

“Nothing. I'm fine.”

“You missed Emma's birthday. Did you even notice that Svet and Yev spent a couple of days in New York?”

 _Fuck!!!!_ Mickey rested his head against the wall of his bedroom. He forgot his niece's birthday, that sucked!

“I'm sorry.” he muttered.

“Does this have something to do with Ian?”

“What? No, it doesn't. Not everything has to do with him! He’s not the center of the fucking world!”

It did have everything to do with Ian. Or almost everything. Mickey was fine before the stupid red-haired giant came barging into his life again. He had a wife, a kid, a job, a house, the American dream! He even went on dates regularly. But apparently, you can't run away from the South Side, it always ends up catching up with you. Mickey was okay without Ian, imaging him happily married to some very hot guy with whom he had adopt a biracial baby to create the perfect poster family. But now, even if he didn't let Ian into his life again, the red hair was always there, worrying the living shit out of Mickey. And everybody expected him to do something, to help somehow, but he had no fucking idea what to do! So yes, he enjoyed his beers, and his hard liquor. Yes, he was passing out on the couch late at night, and showing up at work only every other day. Yes, he was mostly ignoring his family. And yes, he knew that he was becoming everything he was running away from in Chicago, everything he had tried so hard not to be, a shitty dad and a shitty husband. He was becoming his own father, and for some reason he couldn't do anything to escape that, and this was what was scaring him the most. One more step and he'll be joining his old man in prison. It was what he had always been destined to anyway, how he was born and raised.

“I think I need to go to Chicago.”

He heard Mandy gasp, and, to be honest, he was himself very surprised at his own words. He didn't even know they were true until he said them. And really, now it made perfect sense to him. He had to go back to Chicago.

 

 

 

 

 

**EDIT : I'm taking a little break with this fic for now, but it's not abandonned. I didn't have time to write lately, and when I did find the time, I realized that I had lost my USB key on which I keep my writing. Sooo now I have to rewrite everything. That sucks.**   
**In the meantime, I'm working on another multichap fic ("What happens in Vegas") that is already almost finish writing. So, sorry for the wait, but I promise I'll be back soon.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Chi-town baby! ;)  
> I'll try to update this story soon, but I will actually be back to Chicago myself for some much-needed vacations during the next few weeks, so I don't know when I'll have time to write this fic. I'll go say hi to the Gallagher and Milkovich houses instead! :P

**Author's Note:**

> Please, leave comments, feedbacks (and eventually kudos), everything to help me make this better.
> 
> Come say "hi" on Tumblr! Let's talk, be weird together and then be friends (or not): ilostmylifeonline.tumblr.com


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